Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Gharemgor 02-07-06, 05:29 AM	Lostforge: a world of constructs fashioned after extinct races long since disappeared from the world. Lithe elfmake, forged of wood and covered in beautiful patina bronze, quietly guard their ancesteral forest homes. The dwarfcast, carved from blocks of stone and covered in iron continue to build and expand the mighty underground metropoli and man the great smithies and festhalls. Gnomecobbled whir and clatter in chassis made from elaborate clockwork and overlaid with tin, their nervous energy dedicated toward passionate discussion and modification of one anothers' designs. The sly, shadowy halflingcraft are made entirely from "found" items gathered here and there, bargained for or taken from the unwary, held together in a covering of shiny copper. There are others, makes and designs--some elegant and lifelike, some clunky and brutish. Some take their forms from races, while some merely claim to. They live in a second hand world, one not made for them, and which they don't really understand. But they have come to comfortably inhabit it. Now there are stirrings, strange rumors of unusual creatures stalking in the dark places of the world. Some say these are the master races returned, others that they are something other and alien, something they were created to oppose, and that their failure was why their creators left so long ago. OOC: This forum is open to all, just create a concept, something that fits, and jump right in. I don't plan on turning anyone away so no need to apply--just fire off a post. If you have any questions feel free to e-mail me. I look forward to seeing what comes of this.
Caslyx 02-08-06, 05:36 AM	Perched atop a moss covered tree, twisted and massive in the heart of the forest, Caslyx stood unmoving. His face was a bronze mask, the features almost completely smooth except for two elegant pointed ears and two dark slanted slits suggesting eyes. Long and lean, with his bow held low, arrow laid across it, he waited for his prey to wander into sight. Unfamiliar drives tugged at Caslyx's consciousness and he had to fight to keep his mind from wandering down the pleasant and inviting paths, the thoughts dancing like Willo'wisps beaconing him. He had no one to care for but himself, and in a larger sense the forest. He had no eager mind to teach, no small frame to build up into something worthy of replacing him whenever he finally ceased his long vigil. He shook his head slightly to clear it and leaned slightly lower in the crook of the branch. Tumbles of finely braided fibers tumbled down his shoulders, dark mahogany brown. Almost a hint of a gleam shown from the darkness under his mask as something strode it's way into view...
Gharemgor 02-11-06, 01:45 PM	Caslyx stood upon the tree weapon readied, alert to first rustling, then a great explosion through the trees, splintered wood and frantic movement, a loping gait legs in front of hands of some great blue-green apelike mass covered in crawling layers of unjulating scales. In a balled fist it held the twisted patina wreckage of the upper half of a elfmake, the wooden inner workings crushed to splinters, the head flattened. The shaft of an arrow protruded from it's back, though it's hide seemed strangely ideal for deflecting arrows--almost built for the purpose. So specialized was the creature to preventing penetrating wounds however that it seemed vulnerable, wide open in fact, to attacks from a blunt or edged weapon. Suddenly it made sense. A skindancer, one of various beasts created by ancient works of magic from the forgotten world, a horrible beast that adapts to energy and blade alike, altering its form to create an impervious barrier against whatever was last used against it. The size of an ogre, the arrow in its back would likely of hurt it little. Though unitelligent, it was likely the creature would understand, and could probably even speak, the common tongue since they were after all made to be ordered by their masters.
Caslyx 02-11-06, 01:59 PM	Caslyx, enraged by the sight of his felled brother, body smashed almost beyond recognition, lept silently from his position, arcing through the air. He still had his bow out and readied, and let fly the arrow, more to test his theory and because he would have to lose the arrow either way when he switched to another weapon. The arrow whistled past the creature regardless (roll 9, urgh) into the underbrush. He landed in a ready position, arms and legs bent and outstretched. The hope would be to get the drop on the creature in the next round (Init roll 12) and to leap atop it as it charged. Maybe from there he could hope to damage the thing. He dropped the bow to the side, letting it fall were he stood, no time even to toss it safely into the brush before the creature would move against him.
Gharemgor 02-11-06, 02:41 PM	The raging skindancer charges. The moment of thought to drop the bow is just a moment to long (init 24) and the creature charges forward, slamming a downward fist into Caslyx (38 to hit, ouch). The blow is crushing, but hits off center, ringing against his chest (12 dmg) and knocking him flat on the ground (auto-trip Str test 36!!) and follows up with a backhand swipe (26) that scoops him up, folding him alongside the big fist and tosses him into the underbrush (14 dmg). Laying in a heap under the outcropping of deadfall treetrunk, Caslyx is badly damaged. His left arm workings are shredded, the casing crushed by the impact. His torso is leaking a drizzle of watery slime. His head is ringing, his vision guttering, then brightening--though still too dark to be accurate. Things do not bode well...
Maelifisis 02-25-06, 10:59 PM	Needul-Axel, Gnomecobbled master of aracanicraft knew he had heard something in the forest that didn't bode well. He left his caravan of arcanicrafters [practitioners of the ancient art of melding clockwork/mechanical craft with sorcery to create magical effects, and to enhance constructs (i.e., a Wizard-type class with healing spells for constructs like those of the Artificer class from the Eberron setting)] on their pilgrimage to the clockwork city of Spire (feel free to change the name) to follow the crashing sounds. Only his loyal servant and apprentice Deegal-Cilex (gnomecobbled Artificer 1st level male-patterned construct) had accompanied him into the woods. After nearly an hour of following a trail of devastation, including finding signs of an attack on at least one elfmake (some strewn limbs found along the trail at a what appeared to be a scene of combat), they see a hideous beast of legend - a skindancer - smashing an Elfmake warrior and leaving the noble construct in a heap. Quickly Neddleaxle hurries to the fallen warrior to heal the injured soul. As he moves he calls to his apprentice. "Be wary of the beast! Call out to me if the creature comes back." As he moves towards the fallen warrior, Neddul-Axel holds aloft his glass lightining rod, aiming it at the treeline where the giant creature of nightmare was last seen, waiting to blast it with lightning should it return... (Feel free to demonstrate the skindancer's powers on the apprentice, Deegal-Cilex, if you don't mind giving my character a minute or two to heal Caslyx.)